


Keeping Score

by defeatedbyabridge



Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defeatedbyabridge/pseuds/defeatedbyabridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sky's pissed. Well, pissed off, not so much pissed, exactly, because he'd never drink on duty, except for that one time when Z totally lied to him about what was in the glass... anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Score

Sky knew what would happen. Jack would come out of the small briefing room -- after having been **de** briefed, a logical contradiction that amused Sky enormously but seemed to leave everyone else cold -- then Sky would grab him. Sky would shove him up against the wall and hiss in his face, something cutting about how stupid Jack was and how he didn't follow regulations and would get them both killed, and then Jack would look guilty and apologetic... or would at least be confused, which sometimes was all Sky could hope for.

Yup. That's how it would go.

* * *

Jack sighed -- Cruger was a cranky old dog sometimes, but he respected results. And even Cruger hadn't been able to identify another, safer way of beating the meteor, though they'd been in this damn neutrally coloured room for nearly an hour now. Would it kill SPD to use something more interesting than the SPD logo as decoration? 

Maybe he should set Syd loose in here the next time Cruger had to go out. Place'd end up looking like a My Little Pony and a Pokemon had dropped some acid and gone to a paint store together, but it'd still be an improvement.

"Be more careful," Cruger said eventually as he leant back in his chair, steepling his hands. If Jack had to guess the tone in his voice, he would've said 'gentleness', and wasn't THAT a crazy idea? Cruger growled in frustration under his breath, but both he and Jack knew that Cruger couldn't say any more. There'd been no better way, especially since it was a suicide mission to begin with. Cruger placed his giant hands flat on the clear glass table and stood. He shook his head slowly, heading for the door. 

"Sir," Jack said obediently. Cruger deserved to win one, once in a while, and Jack was in a magnanimous kind of mood. 

The door swooshed open. Cruger left the room and growled in a greeting kind of way to someone, well, that's what it looked like, at least. For all Jack knew, Cruger had decided the walls had pissed him off lately and he'd growled at them. The door swished shut again. 

Cruger had left two giant pawprints on the glass table. Jack wondered briefly if Cruger did it on purpose to piss off the cleaners, then he carefully added legs and a beak to each one to make it a turkey. Time to go. He yawned -- helluva long day -- then walked towards the door. It swooshed open.

Jack rubbed his face with his hands as he stepped through, wondering if he could sweet-talk the drink machine into cherry soda this time, instead of the neverending diet lemon it seemed to think he liked. The door swished shut, and then he felt hands on his shoulders, shoving him hard towards the wall. 

Squawking, Jack phased automatically and went straight through the wall. He landed in a heap on his ass and heard someone yelp, "Ow! Dammit, Jack!"

"Sky?" he said cautiously.

* * *

Sky said, "Commander," with his tone barely on the right side of surly, as Cruger stalked past him. Cruger gave him an odd look, but let it pass. Sky paced some more. 

Jack came out, bleary, rubbing his eyes.

Sky grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him at the wall, waiting for the satisfying thunk that would mean Jack's shoulders and spine had met the hard metal. . . . But of course, Jack couldn't allow anything to go to plan. He yelled and promptly phased himself through it. With the loss of Jack under him, Sky staggered, and his forehead hit hard. "Ow! Dammit, Jack!"

A tentative voice from inside said, "Sky?"

Sky stalked to the doorway, though it was hard to do a good impressive stalk when he had one hand on his forehead trying to massage away the pain. The door swooshed open. He poked his head through.

Jack was sprawled on the carpet on his back. He raised an eyebrow at Sky. "If you wanted to get me on my back, all you hadda do was ask," he pointed out.

Sky sighed. "I don't want to get you on your back."

"You don't want to get me on my back right now, but maybe later, after you get over the impending hissy fit?" Jack suggested. 

Sky crouched next to him, and flinched when his knees cracked. He hated that. "I don't want to get you on your back right now, but maybe later, after I- HEY. I'm here to yell at you, dammit!" 

"What about?" Jack scooched up on his elbows and grinned at him. "I've already been debriefed by Cruger, though I've still got my pants on. You don't need to debrief me, too, unless you do it later. There's not enough room down here, and if we did it on the table we'd leave horrible assmarks on the glass. Nearly as bad as the big red mark on your forehead." 

This was not going the way Sky had wanted it to go. He sighed angrily, and stopped himself from rubbing his head again through sheer force of will. "You nearly got yourself killed today." 

"So did you," Jack said, all trace of a grin now gone. "I'm team leader. I made the call. You really wanna push this with me?" He got up on his knees, and got right in Sky's face. "Really?"

Sky flinched, feeling Jack's breath warm on his skin, so close to kissing, and all he could think about was Jack underneath him, Jack submitting to him easily, making those sounds in the back of his throat that let Sky know that he mattered, that Sky could affect the hell outta him. . . "Damn you," Sky muttered, all anger dissipating. "I hate you."

"You love me, idiot," Jack corrected, and then he did kiss Sky, and Sky groaned against his mouth. Did this count as Jack's victory? Or his own? Sky found he didn't care all that much, all he cared about was Jack's tongue thrusting into his mouth and Jack's fingers in his hair. He could keep score again another time.


End file.
